


We are Miracles

by jusrecht



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Just tons of Fluff, M/M, no excuse for this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-22
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2019-01-04 01:05:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12158445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jusrecht/pseuds/jusrecht
Summary: In which Newt sleeps, wakes up, and falls asleep again.





	We are Miracles

**Author's Note:**

> Just something short and sweet.

Newt’s dream is filled with sounds.

 

They’re quiet, comforting sounds. Scratches of quills on paper. Hushed voices in conversation. Soft, careful footsteps. Door locks quietly clicking into place. Ordinary sounds that nestle his sleep and keep unpleasant dreams away.

 

Consciousness comes to him gradually. The voices register to him first. Someone is speaking, vaguely familiar, droning about burglaries and monkey paws and how luck is magic at its oldest and most absurd. 

 

“Eyes over here, Munson.”

 

Now, that one he knows only too well. Newt smiles, but makes no effort to stir. In fact, he keeps himself still until Auror Munson concludes his report. Then there is the sound of hurried footsteps, followed by the door being closed.

 

That is when Newt opens his eyes, tilting his head slightly to watch Percival rise from his chair. The office is well-lit but nowhere as bright as usual, the lights dimmed into a soft white cocoon. Newt is lying in a sofa, curled on one side, under a blanket that smells like something citrusy. He faintly remembers arriving in the morning and accepting a very agreeable welcome kiss before promptly crashing into the nearest available space for a long, long nap.

 

“Hello.” Percival sits facing him in the sofa, Newt shifting a little to make space for him. “How was your sleep?”

 

“Divine,” Newt declares happily. His head still feels heavy and sluggish, but considering what he has managed to achieve, a slight headache is a pretty small price to pay. “Where’s my case?”

 

“By the desk. I’m keeping an eye on it.”

 

Newt smiles sleepily. “Thank you.”

 

Percival’s fingers sink into his hair and Newt makes a pleased sound. “Do I want to know what happened?”

 

“No.”

 

“Newt.”

 

“You asked.”

 

“Tell me what happened.” There is a slight hint of the Director’s tone in the request/command. Newt studies him from behind lowered lashes, weighing his options.

 

“I didn’t break any law,” he finally settles for cautious honesty.

 

“MACUSA law or international law?”

 

“Not MACUSA. I’ll check the latter later. The latter later. Latter. Later. See what I did there?”

 

Percival laughs, a warm, affectionate sound. “You can barely keep your eyes open. Go back to sleep.”

 

“What time is it?”

 

“Not yet three. Are you hungry?”

 

Newt shakes his head. After four days of running and hiding with literally no chance to rest, all he wants is to sleep like the dead.

 

“You really should eat something,” Percival points out, a trace of disapproval in his voice.

 

“Not really hungry.”

 

“When was the last time you ate?”

 

Newt sidesteps the question neatly. “I’ll wait until you’re done,” he says instead, complete with a sweet, innocent smile. “And then we’ll have a nice dinner together.”

 

The look Percival is giving him clearly says that he isn’t fooled, but he finally concedes with a sigh. “All right.”

 

Newt smiles, caressing his boyfriend’s cheek with the back of his hand. “You look like you need sleep too.”

 

“Just a busy few days.”

 

 _You mean a busy few weeks_ —except he doesn’t say it out loud. It’s an old argument, and not one of which Newt himself is entirely innocent. “Come into the case tonight,” he suggests instead.

 

A slow smile spreads across Percival’s face. “I will,” he murmurs, taking Newt’s hand and kissing his fingers.

 

They have been together for years, but gestures like that never fail to make Newt’s cheeks feel pleasantly warm—and not only from the act itself. It’s this small understanding between them. In the same way that he feels safest in Percival’s office, Percival feels safest in his case, surrounded by Newt’s creatures and things. Newt still remembers their first few months into the relationship, when even the smallest sound would startle Percival awake. It took time, efforts, and an unbelievable amount of patience, but one morning, Percival actually managed to oversleep—the first time in ten years. He woke up cursing six ways to Sunday and Newt couldn’t stop grinning like an idiot.

 

“Why are you smiling?”

 

Newt raises an eyebrow. “Why are _you_ smiling?”

 

“I’m only counting how many office rules I’ll end up breaking if I kiss you right now.”

 

“That sounds serious indeed.” Newt nods solemnly. “The Director of Magical Security should definitely set an example–”

 

He is half laughing when the rest of his words is swept into Percival’s kiss. And it isn’t a nice kiss or an agreeable kiss. It’s a rough, deep, thoroughly demanding kiss that makes him gasp and try to curl his leg around Percival’s back, blankets and rules be damned. It is, however, also a kiss that finds itself interrupted by a soft, almost apologetic knock. Newt makes a discontented sound.

 

“Ignore it,” Percival tells him before returning to the process of turning Newt’s brain into mush. Whatever important emergency waiting outside the door is wonderfully forgotten.

 

“See?” Percival points out when he is through with him. “They go away eventually.”

 

“Incorrigible,” Newt murmurs. “You know, it might be something important.”

 

Percival shrugs, straightening up, and flicks a finger to open the door. “Yes, Abernathy?” he says without turning around.

 

There is a muttered oath, followed by the sound of papers tumbling to the floor. Newt rolls his eyes and mouths the word soundlessly: ‘ _incorrigible_ ’. Percival only grins at him.

 

“S-so sorry, sir,” comes the flustered reply. “I’m just here to deliver the, uh, monthly report for the wand permits. But I can come back later–”

 

“Never mind, I’ll have it now,” Percival says matter-of-factly, dark eyes still on Newt, filled with quiet heat that they will definitely explore more thoroughly later. His thumb gives one last stroke to Newt’s parted lips, and then he stands up with a sigh. “Get in here.”

 

Some more fumbling occurs, and then the door is shut. Quiet footsteps. Papers and quills. Newt turns around and closes his eyes, smiling, the sound of Percival’s voice lulling him back to sleep.

 

_**End** _

 

**Author's Note:**

> Now I can't stop thinking their having so much fun traumatising MACUSA employees.


End file.
